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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [private]  the night breeze carries something sweet
    #1
    Midnight

    Sweet little bird, how you call to me.

    Midnight hums to himself, strange boy that he is - weaving between the foliage with a glowing halo atop his head. He likes that adornment, don’t ask him why. He does not find himself to be an angel; in fact, the only angel he knows is in his best friend, his Larke.

    Sometimes the black and white boy chews on their first encounter: how she gathered all of her energy just to gently wrap him in it. A wistful smile softens his face and a little blush colors his cheeks. For the time being, Midnight has no idea that his feelings for Larke go beyond that of a friend. The girl is someone he treks across lands to see, despite Loess and Tephra being on opposite sides of a moralistic scale, and still he does not realize. She is but a sweet friend with an incredible power, and perhaps he will one day realize his care knows no bounds.

    “Larrrrrrke,” he calls once upon the border of Tephra. He feels just comfortable enough to step across without his friend’s guidance. He knows Leliana to be a kind creature, and hopefully a Loessian scent is not too alarming when coming from him.

    “Larke!” This one is short and demanding. “Come on. I miss you!”

    now I wake up in the mornings and all the kindness is drained out of me
    i spend hours just wincing and trying to regain some sense of peace



    @[larke]
    #2

    Over the months, Midnight has changed from the sweet boy she had stumbled upon on one of her many wanderings throughout her home to her closest companion, save her twin brother. She constantly seeks out his company and on the days where he does not come searching for her, she finds that her heart sinks just a little lower in her chest—her sage eyes finding their way to the horizon and watching it.

    Today though is not one of those days and her heart leaps in her chest at the sound of his voice.

    When she hearts the singing of her voice she smiles, the curve of her lip gentle and her eyes brightening. She wishes that she had her mother’s wings to carry her but she has no such thing. Instead she has to pick herself up from the grove where she had been standing and makes her way toward him, knowing that it would only take several minutes to find him if he was close enough for her to hear him in the first place.

    Ultimately, she is correct in her assessment and before she knows, she can see the ivory and onyx of him. He has grown since the first time that they had met, but then again, so had she. Her mane was still short but it was beginning to lie down on the elegant curve of her neck and her face, although still rounded and sweet, was starting to lengthen—showing signs where it would be long and lovely like her mother’s.

    “Midnight,” she exhales his name and finds the familiarity of it warms her chest. Her sage eyes find his own and she steps forward, embracing him with the same joy that she does every time—no matter how little has passed between their encounters. “I am so glad that you were able to make it today.”

    —LARKE—
    there is not in the wild world a valley so sweet
    as the vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet


    @[midnight]
    #3
    Midnight

    Midnight remembers his time as a colt, when he saw things in only black and white. There was his mother, his sister-mother, and his many siblings - and that is it. His whole world centered in Loess, and when he trailed away from its grasp, there was never anything like it.

    Never, until he met Larke.

    Her healing touch strengthened him as a child, and he smiles as he reminisces on all of the little light creatures he created for her. They were an ideal duo: one so sweet showing one so incomplete how beautifully the world turns. Those memories he holds dear, even more so than the rare the sweetness from Starsin or the rare inclusion with his adopted brothers.

    Larke’s chest is soft and comforting against Midnight’s, and he finds himself instinctually dipping his head into the elegant curve of her shoulder. He presses a gentle nibbing into her skin before stepping away with a goofy grin. “Did you miss me?” he teases, bumping his nose clumsily into hers. “I missed you.” This admission slips out as he turns his head away, and his cheeks burn with the embarrassment of it. No matter how many times he shows how much he cares, he still grows bashful with each hint at affection.

    “What do you want to do today?” he manages to stutter out immediately after, tossing nervous eyes over the silhouette of the volcano. A light breeze ruffles his short, tangled mane and blows whisps into his eyes. He turns to peer at his friend through the curtains of hair and smiles, kicking one hoof impatiently into the ground. Midnight’s nervous mind tells him to suggest a swim in one of Tephra’s channels or an exploration of hardened lava, but a quickened beating of his heart keeps his mouth shut: such a fickle organ telling him to draw close to her and remain that way for the rest of the day.

    now I wake up in the mornings and all the kindness is drained out of me
    i spend hours just wincing and trying to regain some sense of peace



    @[larke] maybe he'll yawn and put his arm around her
    #4

    It is easy to be with him.

    She never feels like she needs to be something that she is not. She never feels like she needs to explain to him how much she prefers the quiet to the loudness; she never feels like she needs to explain to him that she feels more like herself when she is walking amongst her mother’s gardens or when she feels that golden light of her healing uncurling into her hand and then pooling into someone else.

    She also doesn’t need to explain to him how natural it feels to be with him.

    How she feels like she can just be herself.

    She is still shy and quiet but she is calm, feeling that familiar warmth spread through her chest when he reaches down to press his lips to her shoulder. She laughs, low and throaty before returning the gesture, lipping at his jaw and then his neck. It is an innocent, friendly gesture and she doesn’t question the way that her heart flutters just a little by the way it feels to be curled so closely next to him.

    When he steps back, she glances up, looking thoughtfully at the horizon. “I’m not sure,” she says, honest always with him. “Does that make me terribly boring?” Her lips curve into a smile, her face framed by the wisteria that blooms in her growing mane. She rolls her shoulders and takes a step forward. “Maybe we can go down to the beach today? I feel like we haven’t been there in a while and it’s so beautiful.”

    —LARKE—
    there is not in the wild world a valley so sweet
    as the vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet




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